


Dating 101: Another Guide By Tony Stark

by itsallAvengers



Series: Listen up, Kid [7]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Again, Domestic Fluff, EVERYTHING LMAO, First Dates, Fluff, From The One And Only Tony Stark, Have This Tooth Rotting Fluff, NoT EXACTLY LIKE UR AN EXPERT THO BABE UR BOYFRIEND IS A FUCKIG WAR CRIMINAL, Peter Being All Nervous, Relationship Advice, Tony giving him advice, Whatever Its 2am, sorrRY I JUST LIKE THAT IDEA THAT HE'S PETER'S MENTOR FOR LIKE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/pseuds/itsallAvengers
Summary: There's 19 hours until showtime.1712Okay. So he may be panicking. Just a little. But it's fine. There's gotta be someone who knows how to do this, right?





	Dating 101: Another Guide By Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I caved and wrote another one lmao- enjoy!

“Tony?”

 

Peter heard the yawn down the line in response, and immediately checked his watch. He’d been sat around stewing for so long now it may well have gone past midnight.

God, he was a wreck.

“The one and only,” Tony answered once his yawn came to a close, and there was a shuffling down the line, “what’s the occasion?”

Peter blew out between his cheeks, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Uhhhhhh- well- you see-”

“Have you accidentally blown something up again?” Tony asked wearily.

“What? No-”

“woken up in a foreign country?”

“No! I just-”

“If you’re calling at 2:15 in the morning to tell me you’re minutes away from death, I am going to be so pissed, Parker-”

“I got a date!” Peter finally got a word in, saying the words a little loudly and then immediately pulling his head up, trying to hear if Aunt May had been woken up from it. The walls were fairly thin, after all.

“I got a date,” he whispered again, when he was sure his Aunt hadn’t been disturbed, “but… I don’t know anything  _about_ dating, and I’ve been sat here trying to think about how to go about it for about seven hours now and-”

“I’m sorry,” Tony said, sounding irritated, “are you saying that you called me, at 2 in the morning, to  _ask me how to take someone on a date?”_

Peter shut his mouth with a clack. Okay- so maybe he should have checked the time before interrupting what had to have been Tony’s first proper sleep in a few days now-

“good night, Peter,” Tony said, and the last thing Peter heard was the beginnings of a tired groan before he hung up again.

 

Peter stared at the phone, a little surprised, before throwing it back on the bed with a huff. Tony had been in a bad mood the past few days; trying to put out fires and soothe the Government Officials after the Avengers over in Wakanda had almost levelled a(nother) building- the man had been spread thin for almost a week now, no wonder he’d snapped.

Peter felt guilt pang in his heart at waking him. He really had to stop taking Tony’s availability for granted- the guy was busy enough as it is, of course he couldn’t worry over Peter’s stupid date when he barely even had time to sleep.

 

“Idiot,” he mumbled, falling back on to his pillows and staring at the ceiling, frown plastered over his brow.

 

Was it even a date? They’d never actually said the words, per se- but it had  _felt_ like it was. Maybe? 

What if it wasn’t? What if he just made a fool of himself? What if it ruined everything because they were just meeting up to hang out, as buddies?

 

Oh God.

 

His phone chimed, and Peter shot up, half expecting a text saying _‘I take it back I’d never go on a date with you, come on, what were you thinking-_

 

_Hey asshole,_ was all it actually read as. And it wasn’t from his date, either. It was from Tony.

_What’s their name, asshole,_  another text popped up a few seconds after.

_Do you have smart clothes to wear, asshole_ , came the third.

 

**Go to sleep, Tony- I’m sorry for waking you,**  peter answered quickly, unwilling to keep the man up any further.

Peter was about to shut his phone off and get back to brooding, but it chimed again.  _Too late now, asshole. Just answer my questions, and maybe I won’t be as mean to you._

Peter bit his lip, unwilling to distract the man further. It was 2am, Jesus, what had he been thinking-

_If you don’t answer in the next 10 seconds I’m going to fly over there just to drop you out of the sky._

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head before he got another barrage of texts:

_asshole_

_asshole_

_asshole_

_hey asshole. reply asshole_

_asshole_

_asshole? Thats you!!_

_asshole_

 

**Okay Okay I’m here,** Peter sent back quickly, before adding:  **and yeah, I got some smart clothes to wear**

_But is it an occasion in which to wear smart clothes? That is The Question_

Peter groaned.  **Not helping** , he sent off grumpily.

_Don’t care. I’m allowed to be a bitch to you. You were a bitch first.  
_ _Also- what’s the setting. Where are you going. I’ll tell you if it’s smart dress or not._

**Dinner and then catching a movie.**

Shit. Just typing the words made him feel nervous.

There was a short break, and then:  _what sort of place? Can’t really be turning up to Macdonalds in a tux._

**Just a restaurant around the corner from the move theatre.**

**Cool. Open the door pls.**

Peter’s eyes widened, and he gasped in disbelief. “He didn’t,” he said incredulously to the empty room.

_Before you ask, yeah, I fucking did. Open the door & all your questions will be answered._

_Asshole._

Rushing off the bed and trying his best to be quiet, he hurried out of his room and moved toward the door, pulling it open with one hand and holding the phone in his other.

 

Tony leaned on the opposite wall, fingers tapping against his phone.

 

_Hi. You’re an asshole,_  Peter’s phone read.

 

“Tony- what the fuck,” Peter whispered, “go to sleep! I’m sorry for waking you, I didn’t even realise it was this late, please, you need to-”

“Language,” Tony mumbled absently, stepping under Peter’s arm and into the room, “hey- did you know I can get from Manhattan to Brooklyn in under thirty seconds in my suit? I think that’s pretty fucking awesome.”

“I…yeah, okay, that’s definitely awesome,” Peter admitted, before shutting the door and turning around, “but really, you didn’t need to come. It’s fine, I can handle this-”

“whether I did or didn’t, it seems like I’m here now, Although fuck only knows why,” Tony muttered quietly, flopping on to the couch and curling up in a little ball. Peter felt horrible- Tony was obviously exhausted. 

Tony saw the look, and waved a hand, voice softening a little as he said “don’t worry about it, kid, I wasn’t sleeping properly anyway, if you know what I mean. Insomnia’s a bitch- it’ll come when it comes. Now,” he began, rubbing his hands together, “tell me all about this date.”

Peter took a deep breath, subconsciously straightening out his shirt before sliding down on to the couch next to Tony. “It’s tomorrow. In the afternoon. At 2. And by my calculations, considering the rate at which we both eat and the amount of customers in the restaurant, we should be done by around 3. Seven minute walk to the theatre, and then the film itself will be about-”

“Okay, I’m gonna just stop you right there,” Tony slapped the hand Peter was moving out of the air, pushing it back down to the couch, “the one most important thing about this sort of thing is that you can’t overthink it. Honestly, you’ll try plan every action and then they’ll do some freaky shit which messes up your calculations and makes you have to try and rework the math when you should be starting conversation- not a good idea.”

Peter gulped. “But if I don’t plan, it might all go wrong.”

“And if you do plan, it’ll definitely go wrong. Trust me, kid, I’ve been there,” Tony told him, before looking around, “do you have a notepad? I feel like you should be taking notes. The words coming out of my mouth will undoubtedly be invaluable. They usually are.”

Peter rolled his eyes, shoving lightly against Tony’s shoulder. “So if I don’t plan, how am I supposed to…work?”

Tony’s hands came up and began tapping on his chest, where his scars were. “Remember what I told you when you had to do that speech?”

Peter frowned. “Uh- yeah.”

He shrugged, “follow the same basic rules. Engage the audience, which is, in this case, your date. Eye contact- but not too much, You’re not a psychopath, merely an enamoured individual. Talk about relevant subject matter. You know this person well?”

Peter nodded, wondering if it would be weird if he actually did go and fetch a notebook.

“Okay, so you know them, which means it’ll be easier to talk to them about relevant subjects. Classwork, memories, funny stuff that probably wouldn’t be appreciated by anyone else. Oh-” Tony grabbed his arm, looking down at him through furrowed eyebrows, “but don’t do that thing  where you get nervous and start singing the periodic table song really loudly. That’s a big no.” Tony shook his head.

Peter blushed. “That was _one_  time- you can’t just put me on the phone with  _the_ Bruce Banner and expect me to just…not freak out.”

Tony looked at him for a second before shrugging in defeat. “Good point. He is spectacular like that. But still- no periodic table songs.”

“No periodic table songs,” Peter agreed, nodding seriously.

Tony cocked his head, looking at Peter up and down for a second before saying “you’d probably look best in something that isn’t too fancy, but still smart. A cool jacket, some slacks- oh, and get them flowers. I don’t care what gender they are. Get them flowers you pussy.”

Peter looked confused at the sudden change in conversation flow, but nodded his head. Smart but not too fancy clothes. Flowers. No singing.

This sounded easy.

If only he could tell his overworking brain and his damn shaky hands that.

 

Tony looked at him, eyes narrowing. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, tilting his head a little.

Peter sighed, blowing out through his mouth and burying himself a little further into his couch. He wasn’t all too sure of what his thoughts were himself, and he was the one thinking them.

“I just…” Peter lost the trail again and paused, trying to pull it back. “What if- what if it all goes wrong? What if I’m terrible? What if…what if they don’t like me?” Peter whispered, clutching a pillow tight against his stomach and looking over to Tony with wide eyes.

Tony looked back; face unreadable for a moment before it broke into a fond grin. He poked Peter in the side with his foot, eliciting a whispered yell of surprise. “Don’t say stupid stuff, Peter, you’re supposed to be a genius. Of course they’ll like you. They’ve put up with you for this long, so they’ll almost certainly be ready for whatever crazy shit you undoubtedly end up flinging at them.”

Peter huffed. “Eloquently put.”

Tony made a face. “Have I ever been known for being anything but?”

They both laughed quietly, and Peter looked over to Tony, curled up like a cat on his couch, slowly accumulating more and more pillows as the conversation went on. “You know- you don’t really give off the vibe of an experienced dater when you look like that,” he commented mildly.

Tony looked offended, but then then seemed to accept it, shrugging lightly. “Honestly, I don’t know why you’re even getting the ‘experienced dater’ vibe off me at all. I’ve been on like-” he broke away, looking into space for a second and counting on his fingers, “-five? Five dates in the past ten years. Four of them were with Pepper, who ended up being unable to handle my me-ness and left within a couple of months. So yeah- I’m not exactly an expert.”

_“What?!”_  Peter squeaked suddenly, pushing himself forward, “you mean… you mean you don’t know?”

“No no!” Tony assured him, also sitting up, “I know what to do. I just haven’t had a lot of practise lately-”

“When was the last date you went on?” Peter asked.

Tony raised his eyebrows. Looking a little thrown for a moment. But then he replied quickly, “uhm, about 6 months and 13 days ago? Roughly.”

“And how did it go?” Peter asked, “did you do everything you told me to do? Did it work? Did they want to see you again?”

“Uhhh,” Tony ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly awkward, “it went…well. I did do everything I told you to. So I mean- proof that it works.”

“Then why was there only one date?” Peter asked sceptically. “Were they an asshole? Did they like…steal shit, or something?”

Tony did a little head jerk; shutting his eyes and jutting out his chin. “What? Why do you automatically jump to him being a thief? Couldn’t he just have, I don’t know, moved away or something? Why do you assume the people I date are criminals?”

“I never said the people you  _date_ are criminals, I said  _he_  might have been a criminal-”

“I’m not assuming  _your_ date is a criminal, am I, even though there’s a higher chance, considering you seem to automatically go for the ones with some sort of criminal affiliations-”

“Hey hey, how the hell was _I_ to know that Liz’s dad was the God Damn Vulture-”

“I’m just saying,” Tony shook his head, raising his hands defensively, “you have a worse track record than I”

Tony paused, giving it a thought. “Okay, well, in all fairness, my last date is now actually a war criminal, so I mean I guess we’re equal.”

Peter stopped, eyes going wide. He opened his mouth to say something, but it seemed Tony didn’t want to discuss it further, because he steamrolled ahead. “Anyway- like I was saying before I was rudely interrogated- your date is gonna adore you. And if it all goes tits up, just ring me, and I’ll pick you up. We can go grab burgers or something. I won’t even laugh when you cry,” Tony told him, grinning.

Peter huffed, rolling his eyes at the older man as he poked Peter with his foot again. “I don’t know why I ever call you when I have problems. You’re entirely unhelpful.”

Tony gasped loudly, before pouting. “You’re an ungrateful little cretin, aren’t you?Honestly, where is the respect these days-”

“Aunt May tells me respect is a two way street-”

“Aunt May didn’t sit her ass on a nuke and fly it through a portal into an alien hellscape,” Tony told him, and it was true, so Peter just nodded in defeat.

 

There was a short silence where Tony shuffled a little and sunk further into the cushions. Peter watched him in the half-darkness, and wondered absently if the man had ever been in a home like this, with worn-out couches and threadbare rugs and rooms which spanned the length of your arms.

He seemed to like it here, though. He came over a lot. Maybe it wasn’t a mansion, but Peter guessed Tony liked that. It was home. Tony didn’t really have one of them right now.

 

“If they don’t like you at the end, I’ll kick their ass,” Tony mumbled, eyes fluttering shut for a few seconds before he forced them open again.

This happened several times, until finally they shut and didn’t reopen. Peter grinned, taking out his phone and snapping a silent picture as Tony hugged tight to one of Aunt May’s favourite dog pillows, socked feet digging into the cracks between the couch.

 

“Night, Tony,” he whispered, before silently getting to his feet and making his way back over to his room.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter woke up to the sound of Aunt May screaming. Closely followed by Tony screaming, and then a thud, like someone had rolled off the couch. 

 

* * *

 

**Tony- can I ask you a favour?**

_Aren’t you currently on your super duper important date right now? I swear, Parker, if you make my 2am wakeup call for nothing just so you can ask me for reactor-grade plutonium again I’m going to throttle you._

**No, it’s to do with the date. Only if you’re free though.**

_…..go on._

 

* * *

 

 “Okay, so I gotta admit, this really is cool,” Michelle said, nose brushing against the scoop of icecream and painting it white as she took a lick.

 

Peter nodded with a laugh; looking out over the view and kicking his legs against the wall as they dangled over the ledge. “What can I say- I have connections.”

Michelle shot him a look. “See, it hurts me, because I can’t physically make fun of you for that, seeing as it’s actually true,” she shook her head, tucking a kinky strand of hair behind her ear,  _“Iron Man,_ though? You got  _Iron Man_  to pick us up and drop us off here? You know he’s my favourite- this was obviously a manipulation.”

She paused, and then smiled, jostling his shoulder a little. “It worked,” she said quietly.

Peter beamed, sparing a glance over to her as she looked down upon New York from their spot, tucked into the ‘A’ of the Avengers tower.

The night had gone brilliantly, with barely any awkwardness at all, and then when Michelle had looked up to the evening sky and told him her favourite time of day was when the sun started setting over New York-

 

Well- Peter figured there wasn’t much harm in showing off a bit, was there?

 

Tony had delivered rather marvellously, too. Michelle had whooped and told him to do flips as they’d flown, and he’d performed them effortlessly, and then entered a wonderfully boring discussion with her over the current political situation, which she’d contributed enthusiastically to.

By the time he’d landed them on the side of the tower and warned them not to fall off, Michelle had been almost ecstatic with excitement. Which was always good, date-wise.

 

Peter pulled out his phone as she stared out ahead of her and smiled into the sunset.

**Thank you, Tony.**

There wasn’t a reply for a moment, and Peter filed it with a lick on his icecream, but then his phone buzzed and he looked down.

_Have fun, kid._

 

_You’re still an asshole, though._


End file.
